


Back Alley Brawl

by Lady Clytemnestra (Lady_Clytemnestra)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Self Defense, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Clytemnestra/pseuds/Lady%20Clytemnestra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This sentinel chose the wrong woman to corner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back Alley Brawl

     Kathryn was livid. This was not how she'd imagined spending her first night of shore leave. She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and faced the wall, her palms flat against it.   
  
Her attacker, a sentinel that had confiscated and smashed her combadge, stepped closer.  
  
“I'm not causing any trouble,” she insisted, her tone and eyes hard. Her lip was throbbing where he'd hit her.  
  
“Feet apart,” he snapped, his voice echoing in the alley.  
  
She shifted her weight, her left foot sliding over the cobblestone to rest a foot apart from her right. He grabbed her inner thigh through the skirt of her grey dress and yanked them farther apart. She stumbled, barely catching herself before she fell.  
  
“Stay,” he barked, then ran his hand roughly through her shoulder-length hair. “What were you doing in the bar?”  
  
They'd been over this several times.  
“I told you. I was having a drink with two colleagues.”  
  
He moved on to her arms, his fingers bruising.  
“I don't believe you.”  
  
Clearly.  
“I was drinking with my first officer and chief engineer,” she reiterated, her irritation mounting.  
  
He grabbed her hair and forced her head forward roughly, her brow bone impacting the corner of an uneven brick. She knew it was broken.  
“Lies won't help you.”  
  
He stepped a little closer, let go of her hair and stepped away again, the unmistakable sound of a belt being unbuckled filling the night air.  
  
She forced the pain in her head away, whirled round while clasping her hands and brought them down with crushing force where his neck and shoulder met. The sentinel wavered, grabbed the front of her dress for support. She put her hands on his shoulders, drove her knee up into his groin and he fell to his knees, a tearing sound joining his groan as skirt broke away from bodice. She wiped the blood from her eye as best she could and glared at him, her heart pounding and stomach roiling.  
  
He was spitting, his eyes wide. One of his hands shot out and gripped her ankle, yanked it out from under her. Her balance compromised by the head injury, she fell back, landing hard on her tailbone. She kicked his hand away with her other foot, felt his wrist give way. He roared in pain, gathered the useless hand to his chest and stood, threw his weight at her as she lifted her knees to her chest. Her feet connected with his stomach and ribs as she violently stretched her legs out again, the sentinel rebounding away from her and landing awkwardly with his knee in the worst possible position. He howled, and to her relief, stayed on the ground. She got to her feet and let the wall support her, watching him like a hawk.

* * *

 

     B'Elanna came round the bend and stopped short at the sight. Her captain was battered, bloody, panting and leaning against the wall, the skirt to her dress in the hands of a howling sentinel, but she was very clearly the victor. The man's leg was twisted beneath him, one of his wrists obviously broken. She smiled.  
  
“She's here, Chakotay,” B'Elanna yelled over her shoulder, resisting the urge to throw a few punches at the wheezing petaQ on the cobblestone as she passed him. She reclaimed the skirt from him and handed it to Janeway.  
  
“Thanks,” the older woman managed breathlessly.  
  
B'Elanna stood next to her, admiring the captain's handiwork.  
“I was going to say 'I wish I got here sooner', but...” She crossed her arms.  
  
Janeway let out a short laugh.  
“Wouldn't have hurt,” she replied, her tone light. She looked at the skirt in her hands and scowled. “Damn. I really like this dress.

 


End file.
